By Carl Sampson
I approached the lunch counter.
“May I help you?”
“Yes, I’d like to order two hotdogs, please.”
“What would you like on them?”
“Nothing. In fact, I don’t need the buns. And don’t cook them, either.”
This is my life these days.
It is filled with weirdness, quirks — and a dog named Ike. My pockets are filled with raw hotdogs, treats and plastic bags — don’t ask what they’re for.
As you recall, my family and I adopted a Labradoodle puppy six months ago. Actually, we “borrowed” it to help train to become a service dog.
In the beginning, Ike was a lot of fun. He was the perfect pet — smart, attentive and affectionate.
Then he grew up.
He went from being agreeable and obedient ball of fur to questioning everything, especially authority. All of the sudden, “Sit” was met with the dog language equivalent of “I’ll do it if I feel like it.”
We’ve raised four teenage boys, and Ike is the sassiest teenager of them all.
He chases the cats with new relish and seems to do things, well because that’s what he felt like doing at that particular moment. It is in this context that we took Ike — and his seven brothers and sisters — to the Salem Center mall the other night.
It is on such occasions that I wish I had a video camera. Even the kids that hang out at the mall gave us a wide berth. It should be noted that in the dog world, at least, a Labradoodle is something of a rock star. Sighting one is akin to a car lover seeing a Ferrari on the open road.
As we crossed the street, a woman in an SUV rolled down her window and shouted, “Is that a Labradoodle?”
“Yes,” I nodded.
“Nice….”
“Tell her to open her door,” my wife said. “She can have him.”
It’s not that Ike can’t behave.
Many times, he does fine. In fact, Ike can be the perfect dog. But other times, he chooses to misbehave. It’s as though he’s not satisfied unless he can pull on the leash, run behind you and turn your arms into pretzels or bark at — nothing.
Ike is adolescence at its worst. The only comforting thought is that he will grow out of it.
Soon, I hope.
Ultimately, I’m sure he’ll be a great service dog, helping someone around the house and with his wheelchair.
He already knows how to turn light switches on and off, fetch items from the counter and close cabinet doors. This is stuff no other dog we’ve ever had was able to learn.
The only catch is he does it whenever he feels like it.
Other times, it’s totally optional. Soon we will trade dogs.
We’ll get one of Ike’s litter mates for six months, and one of the other trainers will get Ike.
We’re looking forward to it. We just hope it’s a fair trade.
